


Killed you just the same

by Vansunshine



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Hopeful Ending, Implied Forbidden Love, Inspired by folklore, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Princes, Secrets, inspired by merlin (2008 TV Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25911664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vansunshine/pseuds/Vansunshine
Summary: “Jeno, what did you just do?” Mark whispers, terrified.“I saved us,” he answers solemnly, gasping for air that isn’t burned. Yet, his life is in more danger than it has ever been, and his secret has been spilled to the very person he should be hiding it from.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Mark Lee
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53
Collections: Markno Theme Week





	Killed you just the same

**Author's Note:**

> contains mentions of fires and resulting tragedies, brief mention of blood and injury
> 
> inspired by taylor swift’s ‘my tears ricochet’ and merlin (2008 tv series). you don’t have to listen to the song or watch the show to understand this fic but i would encourage you to give the song a listen! (if you haven't and only if you want to)

“Do you trust me?” Jeno demands urgently.

Mark stares earnestly at him. “More than anything.”

Jeno quickly drapes Mark’s arms over his shoulders and lifts him heavily off the ground onto his back. He carries Mark and starts moving in a frenzy, black smoke and the smell of burning wood clouding all around them. Mark asks him frantically above the roaring crackling of the flames if he’s gone mad but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he charges at the fire, yelling words of a language Mark will never understand, his voice hoarse and desperate and his eyes a flashing glow of red. Just as quick as the shift in his eyes, a small gap through the fire appears in front of them like a miracle, just enough to provide a clear path for them to go through. Mark’s trembling gasp is loud in Jeno’s ears and Jeno’s heart thunders wildly in his chest. He screams and runs forward through the blaze, holding Mark securely on his back as he races to get them away from the raging heat.

“Jeno, what did you just do?” Mark whispers, terrified.

“I saved us,” he answers solemnly, gasping for air that isn’t burned. Yet, his life is in more danger than it has ever been, and his secret has been spilled to the very person he should be hiding it from.

Jeno watches the crowd gather around his grave. The knights he'd trained through sweat and blood with are there, their loyalty unchallenged still. The servants and maids he’d grown close to over the years are here to pay their respects as well, touching him wholly, therefore making him feel more sorry for the tears shed over his lies. Together with the royal family, they all stand before his grave, heads bowed down, silence hosting their presence graciously. Handkerchiefs wipe at tear-stained cheeks, cries are reduced to soft, relentless sobs and thunder rumbles through the grey skies above, a dejected sound to match the somber black sea donned as a show of respect. Jeno himself is cloaked in black too, a sign of stealth instead of sorrow, his hood pulled down past his eyes. He stands hidden behind the trees a safe distance away. His presence here is one that shouldn’t be, a life mourned to be lost but instead lurks about carefully unseen.

Jeno sees Mark leaving the king’s side, coming to stand beside the grave. There are scars on the right side of his face acting as reminders of yesterday’s event. Mark’s eyes are red-rimmed and barren and Jeno’s never seen him like this; vulnerability that he doesn’t try to hide, that he _can’t_ seem to hide, his pain and misery traced in every line of his face. He looks angry — the dip of his brows and the sharpness of his gaze — but his sadness is stronger and unyielding, wearing him down, bluer than any other misery Jeno has ever seen. Jeno’s chest hollows and aches because the one responsible for the anguish and loss Mark feels is him. Yet as sorry as he is to be lying to Mark like this, there’s no regret he feels for what he has done. He would still have done it all over again.

They were an inseparable pair. Jeno was like Mark’s right arm, he stuck to Mark in every battle they fought. It was a rare sight to see one without the other. Mark was the best friend he ever had and he was Mark’s. Mark had given him a ring once, before they embarked on a journey to another kingdom to help fight and win a battle; an obligation birthed from a treaty signed between the two nations. The ring was given as an expression of friendship, a token Mark had wanted to be remembered by lest anything happened to him.

“Are you scared?” Jeno had asked half-jokingly as he put on his chainmail over his tunic. They had half an hour before they had to leave for their arduous journey through woods and across mountains to reach the other kingdom. They’ve been on numerous kinds of missions before but fighting a war was never one of them. They’ve only ever trained to prepare themselves for one in the event things took a turn for the worse. Now they were going to put their training to test with their lives on the line.

“You’re being awfully silent,” Jeno noted.

Mark glanced at him and scoffed, putting his head through his own chainmail and pulling it over his own tunic. “I’m only worried about whether you’ll stay awake enough to ride through the whole night.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve never fallen asleep on my horse, unlike someone I know.”

“You talk bad of the prince so bravely. It’s like you’re asking for a death sentence,” Mark retorted sharply, no poison in his tone. His lips gave way to a small quirk, a worn smile telling years of friendship. “It happened _one time_ and it was because I was on watch the whole night. Let it go already.”

Jeno huffed a laugh. “I don't think so.” He turned to position himself in front of Mark, raising his brows in a knowing manner. He adjusted Mark’s armour on his shoulder for him. “Come on, spit it out. What’s wrong?”

Jeno had known Mark a long time, learnt to read his every movement and expression from the sheer number of times they had trained together. He knew there was something bothering Mark because Mark never fidgets, no matter how dire a situation, and he was never nervous before any of their previous quests. Yet here he stood before Jeno, clenching and unclenching his fists, his troubles written in the lines of his face.

Jeno tightened Mark’s armour and looked at him pointedly. His voice was gentle. “Look at it this way — it’s just another task. We ride, we fight, we come back.”

Mark sighed, bringing his eyes to level with Jeno’s. “Not this time. This is _war,_ Jeno. The risks and dangers are different. I had to tell my men to say their goodbyes to their families in case they couldn’t make it back.” He gave Jeno a worried look as he fixed his sword on the belt around his waist. He pressed his lips together. “I promised them that they could count on me. But what if I can’t protect them? What if I can’t come to you in time when you need me? What happens then?”

Jeno fixed Mark with a look, knocking the top of Mark’s head with his knuckles. Mark scowled. “First of all, it’s my job to protect _you,”_ Jeno pointed out to him. “Second of all, we all knew what we were getting ourselves into. We’re as ready to give up our lives to win this battle as you are.” He took in Mark’s furrowed brows and brought a hand to gently pat his cheek. He smirked, a smile that only years of friendship would decode as kind and understanding. “But that’s not what we’re set out to do, are we? We’re going to be fine.”

Mark attempted a smile but it was weak and Jeno knew that it would take more to persuade Mark out of his worries. A war is war, predictably daunting and threatening and it goes without saying that Mark’s worries were extremely valid. But even through war, Jeno was still going to stick by Mark’s side just like they’d always done. He squeezed Mark’s shoulder, a gesture to let Mark know that Mark could always count on him.

Once they were both done gearing themselves up, Jeno readied to leave the armoury but Mark held his arm, stopping him short. He eyed Mark’s hold on him and trailed his gaze up from his arm to Mark’s face.

Mark searched his eyes, looking for some form of reassurance to hold him down and calm him. “Jeno, I —if I don’t make it, no listen, if something happens to me, the whole kingdom will be devastated, yes I know. I _know,_ Jeno, _listen._ ” Mark fixed him with a look to stop him from interrupting further. Mark sighed, pressing on. _“_ If anything happened to me you wouldn’t live with yourself, _I know this,_ and I want you to know that whatever happens out there, it’s not your fault.” Mark let go of him to fiddle with something in his pocket. He pulled it out and held it flat on his palm for Jeno to see.

It was a ring.

“It was passed down from my mother’s side of the family. I carry it with me all the time. I want you to have it.”

Jeno watched him carefully, conflicted. He could see that Mark earnestly wanted him to have it but he couldn’t possibly accept it when it was something that meant so much to him.

“Please, have it. As something to remember me by.”

_Something_ _to remember him by._ Jeno didn't need something to remember Mark by, but the sight of it made his heart stutter. The idea of Mark wanting him to have a piece of him that no one else had meant a million things, all of which he understood when he saw the way Mark looked at him. He took in a breath. He put his palm out and Mark placed the ring in his hand, trapping the ring between their palms. Mark squeezed his hand, looking desperately into his eyes. Fearfully, he said, “Never forget me.”

Jeno’s heart wrenches, beating a rhythm so ferocious that it felt like it was clawing its way out of his chest. He felt his nerves in a tangled mess, thrumming wildly under his skin. Mark slowly slipped his hand away and Jeno could only stare breathlessly at the ring before eventually curling his fingers around it. In a rush of nerves and thoughts of ‘ _what if’s_ and ‘ _now or never’s_ , Jeno impulsively, but with extreme certainty, took off the locket that he was wearing hidden beneath his armour. He grabbed Mark’s hand once more and Mark watched him with bated breath as he pressed the tiny stone pendant into the center of Mark’s palm. His heartbeat thundered in his ears and Mark’s gaze shakes as Mark looks at him.

“And if I die,” Jeno uttered, crude and direct, as he always had been with his words. He pressed the locket deeper into Mark’s palm. “If I die, know that I would have died peacefully knowing you were safe.” He looked at the locket and swallowed thickly. His mother gave it to him when he left home to become a knight. It meant to him a great deal and it was for that reason he wanted Mark to have it. A little piece of him entwined with his mother, his hometown, everything that he was, locked in the locket, kept alive as long as Mark lived. And he was going to see it that Mark reigned the kingdom for a long time.

Mark’s gaze shifted from the locket to Jeno’s face and nodded, whispering for Jeno to put it on for him. Jeno’s hands trembled but so did Mark’s as he held the locket round his neck. Mark admired it silently, more the meaning than the appearance. His shoulders were worn, his eyes a struggle of emotions he couldn’t say. He brought a finger to lift Jeno’s chin and levelled their eyes.

“I will never forget you.”

Jeno’s chest squeezed tight, like someone had wrung it over and over until there was nothing more he could give. He had never seen Mark look at him like _this_ and it was terrifying, to see his emotions mirrored in front of him. The idea that Mark felt the same as he did was a frightening realisation to comprehend. He swallowed the lump in his throat, felt the heat burning behind his eyes. The rhythm of his heart drummed on rapidly.

“Because when I’m gone there’ll be no one to challenge your every word?” He croaked, a poor excuse of a joke to distract both of them from the truth standing there loudly with them. An unspoken confession exchanged between gazes, an understood longing that rattled inside them both. The pounding of his heart resonated with the frightened look on Mark’s face. It was clear they both wanted the same things. Unthinkingly, he clutched Mark’s hand under his chin and brought it to his lips, softly grazing Mark’s knuckles. He heard Mark’s intake of breath, his own breath faltering as well. But Mark didn’t let go, and nor did he. It felt a little reckless and careless but it didn’t have to mean anything, not unless Mark had wanted it too. But it could also mean everything and he knew, looking into Mark’s eyes what Mark wanted this moment to mean. They were always one and the same.

He tried to cover up the understanding that passed between them with a smile. “Forgetting you will be harder than winning a war.” Because he knew with certainty there was no way he would ever forget Mark, no matter how hard he tried.

Mark let out a laugh under his breath, his eyes shining. He squeezed Jeno’s hand. “That’s a promise?”

“An easy one,” Jeno told him, never once looking away. “I always think of you.”

He let go of Mark’s hand and cocked his head out the door, offering a warm smile and receiving a reassuring one in return. They had a battle to win.

The journey was tough and long as expected — they had to camp in the woods for three nights straight before they could reach the borders. On the third night, Mark and Jeno were supposed to get some rest before it was their turn to keep watch. They’ve taken refuge in the deep of the woods, the dewy grass their beds for the night. The took to a place a little away from the bonfire they’ve made, their backs resting against a thick tree trunk. The other knights resting closer to the bonfire looked warmer than they were, from how they seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Jeno was starting to regret choosing the tree he and Mark were resting against but it didn’t matter because he couldn’t sleep either way, and he knew Mark couldn’t either from the way Mark kept shifting around. Mark must be trying to fight the cold. Jeno flipped his blanket over Mark’s legs, giving him an extra layer.

“I’m not cold,” Mark muttered, even if his body was shivering. He kicked his feet underneath the blanket to send it back over Jeno’s legs. Jeno huffed and nudged Mark’s shoulder with his. Mark made a displeased noise, clearly not appreciating how Jeno kept interrupting him while he was trying to sleep. Jeno gave him a harmless roll of his eyes, shifting subtly closer such that Mark was able to leech off his body heat. Mark didn’t speak but he adjusted himself, leaned back against Jeno’s shoulder and let out a quiet hum.

“If you can’t sleep, look at the moon,” Jeno told him quietly. Mark looked at his face curiously but he nodded up at the sky to motion Mark to try it. Mark turned and titled his head up, taking in the lone brightness hanging above them. It didn’t bring them any warmth but Jeno had always thought it was calming to look at. His mother had once told him when he was younger and brimming with energy, that looking at the moon and thinking about the good things that happened during the day would make the moon remember him. Only after he’d grown he realised his mother had only wanted him to be still and quiet for bed but he’d develop the habit to watch the moon ever since. Sometimes he wondered if his mother was at the other side of the moon thinking of him.

“I’m sure she is,” Mark told him softly. “I think if you tell the moon what you want to tell her, she’ll hear it too.”

“Will she?” Jeno laughed quietly, consciously keeping his voice down to not wake the other knights.

“Of course, I talk to the moon all the time. She’s my best friend.”

Jeno scoffed, giving Mark a look of betrayal. “I can’t believe I got replaced by a rock in the sky. What do you talk to her about?”

Mark shrugged. “You know, things.”

“Alright, keep your secrets.”

Mark huffed a laugh and shook his head. He turned to give Jeno his attention, his way of appeasing Jeno, the way Jeno liked. Jeno liked Mark looking at him. “Just things. Like am I doing this right? Would I be a great king one day? Am I even moving in the right direction-”

“You would. Be a great king,” Jeno interrupted. Heat crept up his neck when he realised how determined he sounded. But he held Mark’s gaze steady and repeated himself softer, but just as sure. “You’d become a great king. I believe it more than anything.”

“You don’t know that,” Mark retorted, giving him a weak smile. But Jeno knew, he had always believed Mark would be a far greater king than his father. He knew Mark could see the goodness there was in everything, even magic. He believed Mark wouldn’t be as unkind as his father and that there would come a day magic could be used freely in the kingdom again, and Jeno could walk a little lighter, breathe a little easier knowing there weren’t eyes all around to catch him if he slipped. He believed Mark could bring the day he could finally afford to be careless, where no one would question him for speaking a different tongue or the way his eyes change colour at his will. He knew Mark would be a great king because he trusted Mark, and he trusted that Mark had what it took to create a peaceful kingdom that was just to everyone. But it wouldn’t come easy, this Jeno knew as well, because of how the king’s views had been forced onto the people, especially his son. Yet Jeno had faith and believed Mark was strong enough and smart enough and would one day restore all that had been lost. And one day, Jeno could truly be himself in front of him.

Mark looked down at his lap contemplatively. “I know some are unhappy under my father’s rule because of his ban on magic and it just makes me wonder sometimes if I could ever be a king that people would respect because they felt I earned it, and not because they feared me?”

“You could change things, when you are king,” Jeno reminded him. He slipped his hand from under his blanket to slide under Mark’s in search for Mark’s hand. He gently squeezed Mark’s forearm when he found it to get Mark to look at him. Mark did, his eyes searching Jeno’s unsurely. Jeno held his gaze, assured him and tried to ease his tension with a smile. The creases on Mark’s forehead relaxed with the breath that Mark let out.

“When you are king,” Jeno presses, “magic doesn’t have to be seen as evil. You can change things. People can be happier under your rule.”

Mark shook his head, worry returning to his eyes and Jeno tried to chase it away by gripping his hand instead and fitting his fingers between Mark’s. “That would go against everything my father would want of me.”

“You have to decide whether what he’s taught you had been right in the first place. You have a mind of your own and a heart of good, don’t let it go to waste. You’re smart, kind and brave. I know you’ll make the right choices when it is your turn on the throne.”

Mark let out a weak laugh and slumped back deeper against Jeno’s shoulders. He was tired, not of the journey, but of the unceasing weight of his duties, of constantly being in conflict between being a filial son and a prince that stood up for his people. “Why do you have so much faith in me? You usually never miss an opportunity to point out my flaws.”

Jeno wasn’t like the other knights, he wasn’t formal and mindful of his words when he was around Mark. Among the knights, he was the closest to Mark in age. A friendship naturally bloomed between them when they met that only strengthened and deepened over time, titles blurred out and defined only when necessary. Jeno would introduce Mark as how he knew him — a friend — and Mark appreciated it. That was why Jeno had so much faith in him — he was always humble and he took time and effort to come down to towns and villages to talk to the people and understand their worries. Mark was a prince to serve the people, not the king and that was why Jeno believed Mark would in time, become a king that served his people as well. He would be the king they had all been waiting for. He believed this with his whole heart.

“Because I’m going to live in the kingdom you rule eventually and I will not settle for such a horrible king.”

Mark laughed, his head almost falling onto Jeno’s shoulder, but he leaned away before it could. Their hands remained interlocked under their blankets and when Mark turned to look at him, he heard the words Mark couldn’t outrightly say. He smiled, let the curve of his lips and his eyes tell Mark that he felt the same.

“I know,” he told Mark softly and Mark nodded back at him.

“When I become king, I will change things. For the better.” Mark gripped his hand tighter and Jeno knew what Mark meant. It was scary and thrilling to think about such changes and Jeno didn’t want to start spiralling into his own imagination picturing how different things would be. It was hopeful, which made it dangerous. It might even make him reckless so he focused on the moment instead. Mark’s hand in his, Mark’s ring in his pocket, Mark’s unspoken confession and promise.

“Sleep,” he told Mark. “We have an hour or two before we have to keep watch.”

“Thank you,” Mark said gently. Jeno understood him easily. Mark closed his eyes and rested his head back against the trunk. “You should sleep too.”

“I’m going to talk to the moon for a bit.”

Mark smiled, his eyes still closed. “Tell your mother I send her my regards. And that I appreciate her son very much.”

Jeno hummed. He murmured a song under his breath as he watched the moon, thumbing Mark’s hand until he heard Mark’s breathing even out into a lulling rhythm. A while later, he carefully let go of Mark’s hand and woke him up. The took their posts and kept watch, and when the sky started to show the slightest hint of sun they set off, ready to meet their fates.

They came back boasting of victory, welcomed by fanfare and a generous feast. When Mark made his speech and toast of gratitude to his knights, Jeno’s locket shone where it rested over Mark’s chest and the ring on Jeno’s finger didn’t look out of place a single bit.

The locket still shines silently over Mark’s chest as Mark gives a speech, this one filled with sorrow and regret. Jeno watches as Mark acknowledges everyone’s presence with a solemn voice, announcing his appreciation towards them for coming. He shares with them stories that complimented Jeno’s character, shares of the adventures and the battles they fought together, shares of how much Jeno had helped and shaped him into the person he is now.

He tells them Jeno was more than just a knight, a dear friend he couldn’t imagine a life without but unfortunately has to learn to be. He tells them how Jeno saved his life. Jeno watches with his heart heavy in his chest, sorry for his lies and sorry for the guilt that eats away inside of Mark. But there’s nothing he can do because this is how it has to be.

Jeno doesn’t stop looking, even if the sight of Mark standing next to his grave proves a chilling scene for him. It used to be them, standing proudly side-by-side, having each other’s backs. Now, it’s just Mark, next to his grave, looking more alone and vulnerable than he’s ever been. But this too, is how it has to be.

Jeno thought he would be able to keep his secret to himself until his death, or in a more hopeful view of things, at least until people like him were allowed to return the kingdom in peace once more. But between saving the prince’s life and protecting his one secret that no one should ever know for fear of his own, he doesn’t have to think twice about which mattered more.

The fire roars fiercely around them, burning through the trees and bushes faster than they can think of a way to escape. Both Mark and him had split off from the other knights in their chase after a group of bandits. That turned out to be a huge mistake because the bandits were more than just thieves, they were rebels with hatred for royalty, and Mark and him had fallen prey for their trap. The bandits desired the demise of the prince and now Jeno finds himself in a situation desperate to save the prince’s life. They’re trapped in an ever-growing blaze and the fire is too huge that Jeno can’t see beyond the massive taunting flames. He searches in distress for any sign of Mark through the thick smoke. Mark’s cough echoes near him and he whips his head around trying to discern the direction it’s coming from. Mark’s still breathing somewhere and that’s enough to keep his wits together.

“Mark!” He yells, his voice ripping out of his throat. “Mark! Where are you? Can you hear me?”

“Here!” a desperate sound somewhere behind him. He turns, his eyes searching frantically, finally spotting Mark’s feet beneath all the smoke. He runs madly, arm over his nose, ignoring the flashing heat that grazes him. He reaches Mark in a fit of pants and coughs, his hair and tunic drenched with sweat from the heat of the flames. Worry churns in his stomach as branches caught on fire start falling a few feet ahead. It’s only a matter of time before the whole area burns, sparing nothing and no one.

He finds Mark taking refuge behind a huge rock, coughing into the sleeve of his arm. He tries pulling Mark up to start them moving and finding for an escape but Mark groans and winces, falling back down, telling Jeno he can’t stand. Jeno drops next to him and examines for a wound somewhere, finding a big slash through Mark’s pants, a deep cut on his calf. Jeno tears off the fabric and ties it tight around the wound, Mark hissing out a breath and squeezing his eyes shut.

“We’re not going to make it,” Mark mutters, his breathing laboured, his eyes glazing over like he’s about to slip into unconsciousness any time.

“We’ll make it,” Jeno grits out, his eyes searching around them for some form of hope or escape or just _something._ Maybe if he shouts loud enough the other knights would come for them, they’d come back around and save them. They’re still _here_ , they’re still alive. They have to help. Mark has to live.

“You’re very dear to me,” Mark breathes out, making it sound like they’re his last words. He holds Jeno’s arm, his grip weak, to get Jeno to look at him. Jeno shakes his head fervently, telling Mark to stop saying stupid things. Mark brings a hand up to caress Jeno’s cheek and Jeno’s breath stutters, his heart yielding easily to the touch. “I’m sorry you’re going to be stuck with me forever.”

Jeno wouldn’t mind being stuck with Mark forever, but not here, not in death when it isn’t their time yet, not when Mark hasn't become the king he is destined to be.

He covers Mark’s palm cradling his face with his. He clenches his jaw, his voice rough when he fights back. “You’re not going to die. We’re not going to die. I won’t let that happen.”

Mark lets out a bitter-sounding laugh, his breathing getting more laboured. The air is suffocating and it’s so humid it might as well be on fire. He sees the embers of the fire reflected in Mark’s eyes. There has to be something he can do.

“We can’t escape this fire, Jeno. Look around us! It’ll eat us and then that’s it.” Mark coughs and heaves in a breath. Mark thumbs his cheek. “But it’ll be _fine_ because we’re together still, even now and that’s all I can ever wish-”

“No!” Jeno cries agonizingly. His throat is tight and his heart pumps fiercely, as if rebelling against fate. He scans around, sees the ferocious, glowering flames everywhere he turns. Branches are falling around them like rain and the smoke has taken over the sky like the fire has taken over the trees. Mark is right, it’s a hopeless situation, the fire would close in, steal their breaths, eat their flesh and they would be no more.

Except Jeno wasn’t going to let that happen.

Between his own life and Mark’s, it has always been an easy choice.

“Do you trust me?” Jeno demands urgently.

Mark stares earnestly at him. “More than anything.”

Jeno knocks on the doors of Mark’s chambers after he gets word that Mark wants to see him. He waits for Mark to allow him in and when he does, the tension between them the moment their eyes meet is unmistakable. They hadn't talked since the fire in the woods because no one was to disturb Mark while he rested. While it bought Jeno time to avoid this confrontation, he knew it was only a matter of time before the subject came up.

Mark stands up from where he had been sitting at the edge of his bed. Jeno gestures for him to remain seated knowing that Mark hasn’t completely healed but Mark wouldn’t hear it. He holds the bedpost to stabilise himself and he walks slowly, a slight limp to his leg, as he comes to stand in front of Jeno.

Mark doesn’t look like he’s gotten enough rest and Jeno knows why. He can imagine how troubled and confused Mark has been ever since they escaped the fire.

“I waited for you to come,” Mark says, his jaw tight, his eyes demanding.

“There were orders that no one was to enter your room except the physician.” He answers Mark like how he would answer the king, formal and distant. He never talks to Mark like this, they were never stiff around each other. They were more than just a prince and his fellow knight; years of forged friendship and a kindling of something they both understood but never spoke of. But when secrets spill, risks are bound to follow and Jeno has to practice caution.

“That never stopped you before,” Mark remarks coldly. But his expression is not, he looks hurt and betrayed. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

“No.”

“You lied to me and you have nothing to say?” Mark asks, his tone rising with emotion. What he says next comes out gritted, like it pains him, like he doesn't want to believe. “Jeno, you practiced _magic_.”

“I did and I’m not sorry I saved your life,” Jeno says sharply, not looking away. “I’m just sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Since when?” Mark demands silently. “When did you know you had the ability?”

“I always had.”

Mark sucks in a breath, his gaze hardened and his voice layered with worry. “Jeno you could be executed if someone finds out.”

“No one but you know. You weren’t even supposed to find out.” Jeno gazes into his eyes and Mark softens visibly, the creases on his forehead relenting. Yet, Jeno can still see the conflict eating him inside. He understands, and he’s sorry — he never meant to put Mark in this position but, “I had to save your life, didn’t I? I couldn’t just let you die.”

Mark exhales and closes his eyes, his fingers curling into his fist. Jeno wants to brave a chance, to reach out and touch him but Mark’s eyes flutter open before he can. He watches Mark carefully, he doesn’t know how Mark is going to react. Mark lets out a heavy sigh and Jeno knows the person standing before him now is still his friend first above all else.

“Have you ever wanted to tell me?” Mark asks quietly.

_All the time._ Because keeping a secret from Mark felt like he wasn’t giving his all to the friendship and it felt unfair to have gained Mark’s complete trust but not give the same thing in return. It felt like he was taking advantage of Mark and he yearned for nothing more than to simply be himself in front of him, for him to call out to Mark and say _look Mark, look at what I can do._ And maybe he’d make flower petals swirl around Mark’s feet and see Mark watch in fascination. _Look, this is who I really am._ And he’d conjure a small flame in his palm and tell Mark it was alright to come closer, and he’d smile when Mark laughs and smiles brightly at him. He has absolute faith that Mark can make it happen one day. He had meant to keep his ability a secret until the day arrives but the future is ever unpredictable.

“Are you going to report me for using magic?” He asks instead.

“Magic is forbidden in the kingdom.”

“Are you going to report me?” Jeno repeats.

Mark is rendered helpless. “Jeno I can’t live with myself knowing I’m disobeying my father by keeping secret of something he hates.” Yet he holds Jeno’s chin and slides his hand to palm Jeno’s cheek. He gazes into Jeno’s eyes and croaks, “But I can’t live with myself knowing you’re going to die because of me either.”

Jeno knows despite all the goodness in Mark’s heart and how much of a better person Mark is as compared to his father, that Mark’s own morals will always be at war with his faithfulness to his father. But Jeno, among many others, silently believed that if Mark continued to be surrounded by enough kind people to guide him as he makes his way to the throne, Mark could possibly be the best king the kingdom would ever see. Which was why Jeno needed to stay by Mark’s side. He is powerless against the king but if he were to stay with Mark, he could not only guide him to see the good in magic, but also ensure that no one would try to blind him to the goodness there is behind everything. Mark’s heart is pure, unlike the king, but it is also his pure heart that does not bear to disappoint his father.

But the deed’s been done, Jeno’s secret has been spilled and his fate is in Mark’s hands.

Jeno gazes steadily into Mark’s eyes. Mark’s hold on his face is as delicate as the fate that lies upon them. “I am born with magic, Mark. I can’t change myself even if I wanted to.”

“I know,” Mark says. He searches for Jeno’s eyes, begging for something Jeno can’t understand. “But I don’t want you dead, either.”

Jeno stares at him, tries to comprehend the words he doesn’t say. Mark’s gaze is relentless and when he finally understands what Mark is begging for, he backs away from him, affronted.

“I won’t run away,” he stresses with an adamant shake of his head. “I’m not going to run away.”

“It’s the only way you’ll be safe,” Mark rushes to explain. His eyes are looking at Jeno’s urgently. “There are speculations going around about how we escaped the fire, Jeno. You don't have a choice. It’s the only way I can protect you.”

“I’m not leaving!” Jeno hurls back, offended. Anger rises in his chest and swirls into his words. “I’m not going to run, I’m not scared of your father. I’m not leaving you.”

“This isn’t about me!” Mark exclaims in frustration. But it is. Everything is about Mark. Everything Jeno does is with the thought of _him._ His duty is to protect him and he’s given too much of himself to Mark, loved him till he’s reckless and vulnerable, that he can’t go anywhere else. Because Mark doesn’t just have a part of him, Mark has _all_ of him, pieces and whole. He isn’t going to leave just to save himself. Mark needs him here as much as he wants to be.

“Jeno, I’m telling you to let me save your life! Innocent people are getting executed every week because they are suspected of sorcery! You don’t have a plan to defend yourself and we both know there’s no way you can convince your way out of this. I know my father, he isn’t going to be lenient on you just because you’re a knight! Please!”

“I saved your life! Doesn’t that count?” Jeno yells, throwing his hands out wildly.

“ _Magic_ , Jeno! Just the word of it and all he sees red!” Mark exclaims, growing more desperate. He’s just as frustrated and as furious as Jeno is. “There’s no way to persuade him. I’ve tried, every single time an innocent person gets sentenced to death, you know I’ve tried.” His breath trembles. “You have to leave, Jeno. _Please_ I want to keep you alive.”

Jeno takes a step forward, moving closer. His heartbeat pounds thickly in his eardrums. It doesn’t have to be this way. Why can’t things just be? Why does saving Mark’s life mean he can never see Mark again? it doesn’t have to be like this, they can fix this. They can work around this.

“I won’t use magic ever again.” The words spill out of Jeno’s mouth in a rush, pleading for Mark to agree with him. “If you don’t say anything, nothing has to change.”

Mark shakes his head. Hurt swims in his eyes. “Jeno, it’s too late. People are already suspecting you. You have to go.”

“No, it’s ridiculous!” Jeno explodes. “I won’t leave just for using magic! Magic isn’t an evil practice your father has declared it to be!”

Mark steps closer to him. “Jeno, _listen_ to me-”

“I won’t leave just because you aren’t brave enough to stand up to him! You _know_ he is wrong. He is blinded by hatred and fear,” Jeno spits, fuming. His chest heaves intensely. He is so sick and tired of magic being seen as a tool for evil. It’s only evil when it has no other choice. He glares at Mark through the tears that’s gathered in his eyes from the frustration and anger he’s kept suppressed over the discrimination magic, and by default he, has faced time and time again. “You are no better if you choose to be silent about his ruthless ways.”

“He is my father, Jeno,” Mark says tersely. “I cannot disobey him.”

“Yet you know he is wrong!”

“I lost my mother to magic and he lost his wife! He did what he felt was right,” Mark answers firmly, his own eyes welling with tears he won’t allow to fall.

“Do you think what he did was right?” Jeno demands, his voice cracking. His throat is tight and his tears are hot when they push against his will and stream down his cheeks. “And when you lose me too, will you still think he’s right?”

Mark winces, pained. “Don’t make me choose between-”

“You have to _choose_! You have to choose eventually. How much longer are you going to watch people suffer under his rule?”

“He won’t see reason! He hates magic more than he cares for anyone,” Mark heaves loudly, his voice getting hoarse. His own tears edge close to falling but they don’t. Jeno isn’t like him, he has long let go and his tears flow endlessly down his face. Mark’s face is pained when Mark looks at him. He tames his voice. “I’ve tried and he won’t listen to me. I need time to change his mind, it isn’t easy. But for now you have to trust me and leave. Please, Jeno. Do it for me.”

“If you cared more about me than pleasing the king, you’d let me stay. You’d let me stay and help you.” _If you love me, if you love me please don’t ask me to leave. We can go through this together._

“And watch you die?” Mark lets out bewilderedly. He holds Jeno by his shoulders, stares deeply into his eyes. “I will be fine! It’s _you_ , Jeno! I fear for _you_! And I do, of course I care for you! So much, you have to understand that’s why I need you to leave.”

Jeno shakes his head, pushing Mark’s arms away from him. His voice comes out strained. “If I were to be punished for saving your life, then so be it.”

Mark’s breath falters and his eyes are filled with sorrow. “Jeno don't say it like that.”

“I won’t leave.”

“ _Jeno_.”

“I said I won’t leave.” _I’m going to fight to stay with you. I don’t care what it takes._ “I’m not afraid.”

Mark’s eyes shift, a resolution shining intense in his eyes. He breathes out steadily and the tears that don’t fall from his eyes mock Jeno’s fallen ones. Mark has always been the one that’s stronger and more in control of his emotions between them. It has always allowed him to be rational. Jeno fears this time however, it would cause harm far beyond repair.

Mark steps away and his voice is solemn when he speaks. “I’m sorry, Jeno but you will leave.”

Jeno fights back stubbornly. “I’m _staying_.”

“I’ve made plans for you,” Mark presses, his tone heavy and authoritative. “I can stall you a week for you to take care of your things here. A week from now-”

Jeno can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You’re being ridiculous-”

“A week from now!” Mark seethes, glaring at him. He swallows thickly, turning away out of guilt, or regret, or maybe to hide how he doesn’t want this. Jeno doesn’t want this either. “A week from now, leave before dawn for the woods and a man will meet you there to guide you. He’ll take you to a place far from here with shelter and food provided for.”

Jeno feels everything inside him shatter. Their story hasn’t even started yet they’re already at the end? Is this all there is to them? He watches Mark in disbelief, hurt piercing through his chest. “You’re banishing me?”

Mark turns his back to him. Jeno’s breath stutters, his tears annoyingly gathering in his eyes. When Mark speaks, his voice is strained and rough. “I will do whatever it takes to keep you alive.”

“You don’t actually want me to leave.” _Tell me you don’t mean it._

“That’s all. You can go now,” Mark says tersely.

“ _Mark,”_ Jeno begs. _Turn around and tell me you want me to stay. Tell me this isn’t the end._

Mark doesn’t turn back around and Jeno waits for him to. Mark _doesn’t_ and Jeno’s tears have stopped by then. When he leaves the room, Mark still has every little piece of him and all that is left of him are remnants of a broken friendship and the whisper of a love unborn.

Mark didn’t cry the day he banished Jeno from the kingdom even when Jeno had been crying and begging him to change his mind. Jeno’s tears had fallen hopelessly then but they don’t now. Instead, Mark’s does. Mark cries as he stands by the side of Jeno’s grave, mourning the loss of the person he’d cared profoundly for. His head is hung low, eyes hidden beneath his hair but the shake of his shoulders give him away. Mark never allowed himself to cry in front of anyone, he had told Jeno once it was a sign of weakness. Now though, his tears fall freely, and Jeno imagines it must have been a struggle trying to hold them back, imagines the agony of letting them fall and the relief of being able to grieve openly. Mark’s weakness is exposed in the cruelest way, his rare tears falling only for one reason. It’s hard for Jeno as well to watch how broken Mark is. He has to stop himself from abruptly running out there to tell Mark he’s alive. He doesn’t like seeing Mark vulnerable in front of all those people but there’s nothing he can do about it. His death was imminent, it was the only way to convince Mark there has to be an end to the war with magic. Jeno’s death will act as a thorn that haunts Mark forever, an unforgettable pain to remind him of what his father’s rule had brought. It was extreme, but it would inevitably push Mark and give him courage to do what he felt was right all along.

When Mark finally lifts his head up, Jeno’s heart clutches at the bleakness he sees in Mark’s eyes. When Mark speaks to continue his speech, his throat is hoarse and his words speak of guilt for being mad at Jeno and of the harsh regret he feels for not apologising for it because he doesn’t have the chance to anymore. Jeno understands better than anyone what that feels like. He too might never have the chance to ask Mark for forgiveness ever again.

“Jeno you were supposed to leave this morning!” Mark hisses when Jeno appears in the armoury.

Jeno was supposed to leave before dawn, meet a man in the woods, leave and never return. But he had heard of what Mark and the other knights were set out to do today and he couldn’t let Mark go on with it. He couldn’t turn his back on people like him. The Druids were already dwindling in number, all they want is to find refuge somewhere, someplace they won't be hunted for having the gift of magic — a gift they never used for harm. They were peaceful people who preserve the art of it and help those seeking guidance, yet the king only ever sees them as a threat to the kingdom. The king had sent orders to wipeout what remains of the Druids. Jeno wasn’t going to let that happen.

“So now you’re talking to me? I thought you were bent on pretending I didn’t exist.”

Mark hadn’t talked to him or spared him a single glance since Mark sentenced him to banishment. It hurt and it still does.

Mark fixes him with a look. “Jeno.”

“Tell me you’ll cancel the attack and I’ll leave.”

“It’s the king’s orders. I can’t go against my father.”

“They don’t even have weapons!” Jeno tries to reason. “They’re just trying to find a home because the kingdom has kicked them out. Their own _home_ kicked them out. I won’t let them to suffer for doing nothing wrong.”

Mark gives him a levelled look, a warning in his glare. “Jeno, stay out of this. I mean it. You should leave.”

“No,” Jeno bites, grabbing a sword. “I’m coming.”

Mark stares at him incredulously. “You are _not_ coming!”

“You can’t kill them for being born with a gift! They never hurt anyone and they never will!”

“Sorcery is a dangerous thing, Jeno,” Mark lashes. ”We can’t take risks.”

“Risks? Their lives are the ones at risk!” Jeno yells exasperatedly. He begs for Mark to see reason. “You don’t want to do this, Mark. I know you don’t. You can stop the attack.”

“Jeno-”

Jeno points his sword at Mark in a flash of spontaneity, the tip of it aimed at Mark’s chest. There is anger in Mark’s eyes to mirror that in Jeno’s. Mark swiftly swings out his sword from his belt and points the tip of it threateningly at Jeno as well.

“Don’t do this,” Jeno grits out, gripping the sword tighter. “Cancel the attack.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Mark bites, begging for Jeno to understand him.

“But you do! There always is a choice!”

Mark acts on impulse, his sword clashing with Jeno’s and he pushes it forcefully out of Jeno’s grip. The sword clangs to the floor and Mark pulls him in by his shirt, the edge of the sword lined close to Jeno’s neck. Mark’s eyes are wild but Jeno knows him well enough to sense the fear and confusion. Mark is conflicted, which tells Jeno that not all is completely lost. He can convince Mark to turn the attack around.

Mark pulls him closer, fuming. “Don’t meddle, Jeno! I’m warning you!”

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Jeno challenges, raising his chin above the blade, meeting Mark’s glare head-on. “Do it!”

“You know I can’t!” Mark yells, admitting without shame. It’s the truth and they both know it. Mark will never hurt him even if his life was on the line. “But the king can and he will! So _please,_ stay out of this!”

Jeno shakes his head, his breath flaring out his nose. He’s made up his mind and he won’t back out. “I won’t turn my back against my own people!”

Mark presses the blade nearer, staring threateningly into Jeno’s eyes. The blade grazes Jeno’s skin and just a little pressure would slice it through. Mark doesn’t do it, he pushes Jeno away frustratedly instead. He gives Jeno a tight look and an exasperated exhale. “I won’t lose you like this.”

“You _won’t,_ ” Jeno urges. “Mark, please trust me. This isn’t the right-”

Mark abruptly comes closer to him, holds his face and leans in, leaving an unexpectedly tender kiss on his cheek. He lingers before pulling away. It catches Jeno completely off-guard.

“What-”

“A goodbye,” Mark explains curtly as he fits his sword into his belt, not meeting Jeno’s eyes.

“What?”

When Mark looks up, his face is pained but his determination doesn’t relent. “I’ll have guards locked you in here until I come back, I’m sorry.”

Jeno looks at him betrayed. “Mark!”

“I’m sorry, Jeno. I told you, I’m not going to lose you.”

Mark leaves quickly and shuts the door behind him. When Jeno rushes forward and tries to bang it open, he finds it already locked and hears the voices of at least two men on guard outside.

But Jeno is gifted and although he tries not to use it for fear of being caught, he uses his gift once more to escape. He doesn’t miss the look on Mark’s face when he rides past him, converging with the other knights riding ahead. His purpose however, diverges from theirs entirely.

Things escalate quickly once they uncover where the Druids have been taking refuge. While the other knights attack mercilessly and make an irreparable mess of the home the Druids have built in the woods, Jeno secretly leads the Druids to safety. They feared him at first, seeing him dressed in armour like the other knights, but Jeno realises he can talk to them without saying a single word and they can hear him just as well. An understanding forms between them, silent except in their minds. Quickly, he gains their trust and ushers them to a safer path, telling them to keep running until there were no signs of them being followed. It didn't seem like the kingdom was ever going to be kind to them.

When Jeno gets back to the heart of the attack to search for more Druids he could help escape, he’s greeted by utter devastation he wishes he could unsee. Lifeless bodies of the Druids, some still so young, lay motionless on the ground. The grass is painted a cruel red, and the tents are ablaze with fire — destruction breathes everywhere he looks. His heart wrenches in agony at the madness surrounding him.

In the midst of it all, he sees Mark standing there unmoving, watching the chaos rage on.

Jeno charges angrily at him, hoping desperately to knock some sense into him. He pulls Mark’s shoulder back, his chest burning with fury but he falters when Mark turns around and he sees how distant Mark’s eyes are. He knows, he’s always known, Mark never wanted this.

He has to try convince Mark to stop the attack. It’s his only hope. “Mark, listen to me! You have to stop this! Look around you! _No one is winning_. Everyone is suffering because of one person’s fear of magic! You know this isn’t fair to anyone at all!”

Mark’s eyes refocus onto Jeno, as if he’d been submerged underwater and has finally surfaced to see things in full clarity. Shouts echo around them, blades endlessly clanking against each other and ashes fall around them like rain. The fire glows a horrible red, devouring what once was considered a home.

Mark glances around, his gaze hardened and when he looks back at Jeno. Jeno can tell he’s afraid and confused. “I have to do this, Jeno. It’s for the good of the kingdom.”

Frustration wells up inside of him. His voice croaks. “For what _good?_ Mark, please, I beg you! Stop this! This is a massacre! They are innocent!”

“It’s too late!” Mark shouts and tries to turn away but Jeno grabs him before he can. Mark is faster and he resists, clutching Jeno’s collar, the fight tilting to his favour. He holds a blade between them, aims it threateningly towards Jeno’s chest.

“You won’t do it,” Jeno taunts. Mark pushes the tip of the dagger deeper into his chainmail and Jeno feels the sharpness of it on his skin, right over his heart.

“You should have listened to me! Look at us now, Jeno! I never wanted this!” Mark yells, staring fiercely at him. “But if I have to hurt you to stop you, I will do it!”

But Mark won’t. If he was, he would have done it by now. Mark never hesitates when he attacks. Mark can aim for his heart but Jeno knows he’ll regret it for an eternity if he ends up pushing it deep enough to start drawing blood. Jeno does him the favour instead and knocks the dagger out of his hold.

Mark glares at him before swinging his fist but Jeno dodges. He kicks Mark’s stomach to push him back and aims a blow to his face but Mark is faster and barrels himself against Jeno, knocking Jeno to the ground. Jeno falls, wincing where his shoulder had taken the impact. Mark looks down at him, his chest heaving and his jaw clenched. “This is how it has to be, Jeno. You have to understand.”

He turns, making his word final and leaves Jeno lying there. But Jeno is far from done. “No, it doesn’t!” he yells back, getting up on his feet and grabbing Mark’s shoulder forcefully. He turns Mark around. Before he can scream at Mark to come to his senses, he spots a Druid over Mark’s shoulder with a stolen crossbow, the arrow aimed at Mark’s back.

Fear overtakes him completely and his heart slams against his ribcage. He feels every nerve inside his body come alive and screaming at the impending danger.

He stares urgently at the Druid. _No! He’s not going to hurt you! I promise!_

The Druid meet his eyes briefly, the crossbow in his hand steady and his face grave. _He’s the prince. He must go._

Jeno acts without thinking. He sees the Druid release the arrow and he shoves Mark violently aside. The arrow flies towards him and he knows he has to act fast. He blinks and when he opens his eyes again, it’s like everything has stopped in time. Only that Jeno knows they haven’t, no sorcerer no matter how powerful can stop the workings of the universe but Jeno’s strong enough to slow down time to almost a standstill, just enough to buy him time to save himself. The arrow takes its time to slice through the air, inching tediously closer. Jeno has to be quick because he's never done this kind of spell before and he doesn’t know how long he can keep it up. He turns, utter relief coursing through his veins when sees Mark safely out of harm’s way. He holds his palm out at a lifeless Druid body by the side, mutters an apology and an incantation that pulls the body to lay by his feet. He switches their clothes with another spell and conjures a deadly fire at the tip of the arrow coming slowly towards him. He holds his palm out in front of the arrow, changes its trajectory to point at the Druid body by his foot. A burnt body would be unrecognisable.

He then dashes away, the only swift movement in the dome of stalled time and hides himself. He conjures up a fog and when he can’t hold it out any longer, he blinks again and lets everything play out as he’d set it up. The arrow zips through the air and penetrates the Druid body. The body is set aflame, a massive orange flare claiming something that’s already been lost. He hears Mark scream his name a second too late. He sees Mark running madly towards the ablaze body, screaming and crying, bright hot embers dancing and taunting before him. Mark’s devastation roars louder than the chaos surrounding him. Jeno’s stomach coils watching him. He gets a last glimpse of Mark kneeling by the body before the fog ultimately consumes the forest and all he sees is white. He takes it as his sign to leave. He pulls the hood of the cloak over his head and flees quickly, his chest squeezing tight and his conscience screaming of the betrayal he’d just committed. But he presses onwards. 

He can only hope that him leaving Mark devastated like this will wake Mark up and turn him away from the man he doesn’t want Mark to be. Sometimes it takes losing the one thing you ever truly cared about to realise what you have to do differently. Unfortunately for them, this might just be the _only_ way to change things. Jeno thinks it’s worth it, however, for him to sacrifice everything – his identity, his friendship, the chance to be with the one he cares for the most – because he doesn’t want Mark to turn into the king himself fears to be, but the king Jeno knows will earn the people’s trust and respect. It’ll be worth it, even if it means that he won’t be there with Mark through it all. He’s helped Mark as much as he can, to the point where he has nothing left and it’s up to Mark now to shape the future into what he wants it to be. Jeno walks on, taking himself further away from the kingdom, hoping and wishing he’s done the right thing.

Rain pelts down heavily and the sky has darkened enough that everyone takes it as a sign to retreat for rest. One by one, the sea of black is reduced to a single lone figure kneeling before Jeno’s grave. Mark stays there unmoving, getting drenched to his bones but he hardly gives a care. His head is bent into his chest and his hand gently strokes over the grass where Jeno’s body supposedly lies. The roaring of the thunder is a sympathising melody. Mark stays there for the longest time until the moon has coaxed the sun out of the sky and the rain’s placated to a light drizzle. The stars come out to accompany him as he sits by Jeno’s grave soullessly, his fingers touching the locket hanging round his neck over and over again. Jeno doesn’t leave either, he sits with his head leaned back against a tree, his drenched black cloak weighing him down but no more than the struggle he feels watching Mark mourn him. He watches with a hollowed chest, his fingers twisting and turning the ring on his forefinger, wondering if this too is how Mark feels whenever he touches the locket.

After some time, Mark lifts his head towards the moon. He looks at it for a long while before Jeno sees him crumbling slowly over the grave, his shoulders shaking first before his wails haunt and pierce through the still sky. He cries loudly and freely for an achingly long time, and Jeno’s heart writhes in pain. He eventually shifts his gaze away, unable to bear the sight of Mark grieving so wretchedly. The moon listens patiently to Mark’s despair and it takes Mark a while but he finally staggers to a stand. His gaze lingers on Jeno’s grave and it doesn’t look like he’s able to leave, but he eventually does, his steps heavy as he walks away. He mounts his horse and rides through the desolate night.

Jeno comes out from the shadows and the trees, pulling his hood away from his face. He approaches his own grave, where the body of a burnt Druid lies inside and sits wearily in front of it. He lifts his head up and looks sorrowfully at the moon. He inhales deeply, feels the air consume every inch of his chest and lets it out in one big exhale. He tells the moon his wish.

_Please tell him that I’m sorry. I didn't mean to lie to him but I did what I thought I had to. I’m hoping it will guide him towards where his heart truly lies. You don’t have to tell him that I’m alive, I can’t imagine how he’ll feel if he knows. But if, if the day comes when magic is allowed to return to the kingdom again and loving becomes easy and free for all, let me come home to him, if he would have me once more._

Jeno stands and takes one last look at the grave. He turns away from it, from his home, from the city he’s made so many memories with and forged so many invaluable bonds. He’s a dead man now, a life traded for eternal freedom and the possibility of hope. He can go anywhere and do whatever he wants. He is but a face without a name, a presence dearly missed by the one he misses the most. He yearns to see Mark one last time before he goes but he restrains himself. He holds on to the hope that in years to come, people like him will be welcomed back once more. And when that day comes, maybe he would call out to Mark and say _look Mark, look at what I can do._ And maybe he’d make flower petals swirl around Mark’s feet and see Mark watch in fascination. _Look, this is who I really am._ And he’d conjure a small flame in his palm and tell Mark it was alright to come closer, and he’d smile when Mark laughs and smiles brightly at him.

For now he goes away to wherever he chooses to, anywhere but home. Maybe one day home will open its doors to him again but till that day comes, he’ll wear the ring on his finger and talk to the moon and wish for her to watch over Mark for him. And hopefully, Mark hears him on the other side and knows that he’s never left Mark’s side as long as Mark keeps the locket close to him. Even without the locket, Mark has always had him, pieces and whole. And he’ll always have Mark in his wishes and prayers and most importantly, in his hopes of a fair and kinder kingdom.

**Author's Note:**

> this was really super self-indulgent and idk anything about magic but does anyone really? i whipped this out in a couple of days in a mad rush to meet the fest deadline. let me know your thoughts!


End file.
